


Blood, Pale Skin, and Tears

by IntrovertedbutBooksmart



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Death, Death jk, Eating Disorders, England Needs Tea (Hetalia), Everybody Dies, Fights, It's serious now lol, Japan go away, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Minor Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), North Korea murdalizes people, Ooh spicy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sorry Not Sorry, Stabbing, ouo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 06:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10457631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntrovertedbutBooksmart/pseuds/IntrovertedbutBooksmart
Summary: "If you- nngh- i- if you think we're g- gonna give up," he started in a forced, almost proud voice. Blood forced its way through his throat, a hole ripped through the nation's body. "Well... Well, your wrong. 'Cause I- I've.... got the others behind me."





	

**Author's Note:**

> “ψ(｀∇´)ψ

"I decided to clean out my storage room on a whim.

"It brought back some rather.... Unkindly memories."

America opened the door, setting a stack of ancient books down with a huff. "Hmmph. Some old things down here, huh?" He spoke to himself. To the left of the room sat a small, handcrafted chest.

  
_"Wow! Each soldier has a different face!"_

_..."Well, just be careful with a hammer, America."_

 

"I... I Don't play with toys like these anymore. So I guess I'll throw them out." He set the old toy soldier down. Looking across the room, he noticed a wrinkled old suit.

 

_"You have to start dressing more formally, America."_

_"Ugh. It's so itchy and stiff..."_

 

"I don't need this anymore... I'll throw it out, too." He came across an old, dusty musket. "Ah. Now here's a gem. It would be nice to hang, or mayb-" he turned it over, seeing a deep, violent scratch.

"Could it be...? From that time...?"

 

_American Revolution._

_"After all, England, I just want independence!"_

_"Foolish boy! You cannot even control your people!" England bashed America's musket with his own, the bayonet scratching it deeply, casting the musket away. The army behind America tensed._

_The bayonet was aimed directly in America's face. He did not move._

  
_"FIRE!" The leader of the army behind America shouted._

 

His mouth dry, America set aside the musket. "Perhaps... Later would be a better time for this," he said, standing a wiping the dust from his clothes. He didn't hear someone else pick it up. Suddenly, something pressed against his back. He tensed.

"Hmmph. World domination. Interesting concept, is it not? I like to start with the most powerful nations first. Others will drop like flies. I just never thought it would be this simple."

It's a voice America's never heard. A voice that has never attended National Meetings. "Korea?"

" _North_ Korea, at that." 

Before he could even comprehend it, the musket he had once used, once trusted in battle was thrust towards him, the old bayonet tearing through the nation's flesh, into his lung. Was the bayonet longer? Sharper? Perhaps that was the point of view from being stabbed by one.

In an instant, America's lung partially collapsed, blood forcing itself through his throat, filling his mouth. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even process the pain. It was as if his brain had stopped completely. Then, in an instant, the pain hit. The bayonet had torn a hole through his body, deep into his lung. He couldn't even scream. Rather, he forced speech from himself.

"If you- nnghh- if you think we're ever gonna give up, you're  _wrong._ " Each word was filled with an unbearable pain as the other nation withdrew the bloodied bayonet with a humored chuckle. "Cause... We've... Got each other." He coughed up blood, not even processing when he fell.

 

_"Look, America! I've made you some toy soldiers!"_

_"Come along, young America. The Boston harbor is a busy place."_

_"Wh.. What? You like the scones, America?"_

_"No, no, no, this is middle C."_

_"All I want is for you to come back. I miss you, America."_

_"I'm sorry."_

 

**Only minutes later:**

"AMERICA! HOLY F-" England threw the door open, unusually energetic. He frowned when he realized the other nation wasn't there. "America?" England walked in uninvited, shutting the door behind him. "America? You lazy piece of-" he noticed a door open down the hall.

"Hmmph. He did, at one point, mention cleaning out the storage room..." England marched in, not caring for common courtesy. "Amer-"

The sight before the nation made his breath freeze, heart turning to a cold, heavy stone.

There, on the ground before him, the unconscious body of America, lying in a gathering pool of blood.

Next to the dying nation, a musket with a bayonet. A bayonet covered in crimson.

**Author's Note:**

> This is aN EXPERIMENT I LITERALLY DISCOVERED THIS YESTERDAY AND WATCHED ALL OF IT IN ONE SITTING PLS DON'T JUDGE (」ﾟﾛﾟ)｣


End file.
